Valgonden
Valgonden is a tale telling of Valgond' s Toa team and their struggles between Argoneon (The Walking Library), and the potential resurection of the Storm Legions. It will be divided into five sections, one for Valgond, one for Botonox, one for Tolvan, one for Ceterode , and one for Talevons. Many of the events occurring in each section may happen simultaneously. VALGOND CHAPTER 1 Valgond had dealt with many ordeals of pain, sacrifice, loss, and treachery. Leading the Toa Lassitiva was like that. Valgond vividly remembered when he and Ceterode had founded the team, two novice Toa of iron and stone, and Averen, an old friend of theirs became a Toa and joined them. They gave no name to their team, there were only three of them. However, over the century, they became renown for their skills, and being a member of Valgond’s team became a great honor. Valgond eventually accepted six more Toa into the team over the years, and they named themselves the Toa Lassitiva, or the Toa of the East. Although Valgond enjoyed having a large team of nine, he would often reminisce of the good old days of protecting Matoran with just Ceterode, Averen, and himself. So, he split his team into three groups: He, Ceterode, and Averen remained the guardians of Metrise Bathor. Lashua, a Toa of Sonics led another group with Botonox and Laida, who remained in Metri Satho. Kinara, a Toa of light, led Rakhtarsa, and Vandenya; they roamed between Nutasu and Metrise Bathor. This was Valgond’s team, spread out but one.* After many years, Turaga Beltho, the old leader of Metrise Bathor told Valgond of a radical anarchist who confronted the Turaga himself while on a morning stroll. “No, Valgond. He was covered in a black shroud. His voice was unfamiliar. He was about 3 bios tall. I know nothing more than what he said to me, in the spookiest tone. ‘Know this, o deranged leader of this pathetic colonized crevice! Metrise Bathor shall fall, and only one being shall have to fall to do it.’ At that, I thought he was about to flash a knife or other, but he mentioned you. ‘No, foolish Turaga, I’m not thinking about you. You’re a weak old being, killing you would only lead the city to an even stronger leader... Yes, the Toa guardians of this city. Their leader is the city’s only backbone. Once he is finished, this city shall fall.’ I gave him a funny look, and simply told him the one flaw in his plan, ‘You want to fight Valgond? Imagine battling every cubic kio of iron around you. If you can beat that, you might stand a chance against Toa Valgond.’ This being wants to kill you Valgond.” Valgond paused long and thought hard. He had had many beings who had wanted to kill him, and he dealt with such characters very often. Only this was different. Someone had warned him through the Turaga. Why? Was this some sort of distraction? “Turaga, I will have you guarded by Ceterode at all times. Averen and I will investigate more. I have heard tell of a being in a shroud like you described.” Beltho nodded. “Good, I like that. Ceterode is always a bit entertaining. Shall he come here now?” “Yes.” while Valgond confirmed this, he brought his sword to touch a metal pole that was part of a building’s framework. With his mask of elemental communication, he could “see” from any part of metal in contact with the metal framework against his sword. Sure enough, Ceterode was in the building near by. Valgond channeled his metallic powers into shaping letters into the metal in front of where Ceterode was standing. “COME TO THE WALK” Most beings would panic upon watching letters be magically carved into the wall before them, but Valgond used this way of communicating with his teammates all the time. Minutes later, Ceterode came, his spears in his hands. “Normally, you use that far-off writing if there is danger. If you want me to have a chat with the Turaga, you could just walk up in ask me.” Valgond frowned. “There is danger. I need you to guard the Turaga for the time being. Thank you.” Valgond didn’t wait for a question, or bother answer any. He just walked off. Ceterode should very well know an order like that does not merit explanations. CHAPTER 2 Averen’s home in Metrise Bathor wasn’t much; Valgond always felt it dishonorable to have his teammate living in a box. Valgond entered, and opened the “door”. “Your ability to dwell in such simplicity never ceases to amaze me, Averen.” “Thank you.” “Listen. Remeber that crazy Matoran who was rambling on about a shadow threatening to kill him?” Averen laughed. “Oh yeah. He was pretty funny. No, he was insane.” Valgond could not fathom his friend’s ability to disregard Matoran as well as his living habits. “Anyway, I think the Matoran was more or less serious. Do you remember how big he claimed the shadow to be?” Averen chuckled again. “Something like four bios, right? I thought I was crazy.” Valgond sighed. “I think this shadow paid a visit to the Turaga. Beltho said he was three bios or so tall, and robed in black. He said that the being wanted to kill me.” The comical Toa of Air finally stopped laughing. He uttered a whisper. “Oh.” Before Valgond could sigh, an explosion sounded outside. “Maybe he’s here now.” Averen. Always an optimist. The two Toa rushed out, to be met by a wave of heat. The toa saw a tall being shrouded in black, launching blasts of energy at a deformed Toa of Fire. The Toa had a Hau, but the mask’s power looked like it was shrinking. Another bolt of energy, and the shield was no more. Without a word, Averen instantly sent a gust of air, pushing the Fire Toa a couple feet away. Valgond then tossed his shield at the black cladded being. Using his power over metal, Valgond bent the shield, and had it bind the shrouded one to the ground. Averen came to the shrouded stranger, and tore off the cloak. There was nothing there. The Toa of fire got up, angered by his push. “What was that for? Thanks for stopping that atrocity, but what was the wind for? Oh yeah. This guy has an annoying mask.” Before Valgond could answer the impudent and obviously rookie Toa’s question, the Toa came over and brought one of his swords down through thin seemingly thin air. What was left were fragments of a mask on top of the most hideous thing Valgond had ever seen. It had three, orange eyes, a gaping mouth full of red teeth, a back covered in tiny, oozing spikes, and six arms. Valgond thought the sight was enough, until he detected the pungent odor of the atrocity. It smelled like greasy metal covered in mold sprinkled in sulfur. Valgond once again changed his mind of the worst thing when the creature spoke. Or did it speak? It sounded like thousands of sand raptors that learned to croak Matoran. “Valgond, I finally have the honor of meeting you.” The horror, you mean. thought the Toa. “This city must fall. Your death will be the beginning.” Valgond rolled his eyes, as if unimpressed. “How do you plan to do that? Stare at us until we die before your repulsive face?” The monstrosity roared, as if Valgond had just described his greatest power. “I will stare! Yes!” With that, power lanced from his three grotesque eyes, sending Valgond flying. Steam came from his newly blackened armor. The six armed atrocity threw off the shield pinning him to the ground as if it were a blanket, knocking Averen to the ground. Again, orange beams lanced out his three eyes, and sent the Toa of Fire to the ground. Valgond watched in horror as the Toa began to transform, his armor whitened, and he grew taller. Claws sprouted from his feet, and spines from his back and chest. The result was a ten foot tall white monster, with a gaping mouth full of razor sharp teeth, and wings protruding from a spined back. The three eyed monster disappeared in a flash of orange, leaving two disoriented toa with a white dragon. Valgond got up, only to see the white dragon become a Toa of Fire again. He fell on the ground, moaning. Valgond was about to administer to him when that horrible voice boomed through the sky. “THAT IS ONLY A FRACTION OF MY POTENTIAL POWER. ONCE METRISE BATHOR FALLS, AND HER SECRETS ARE REVEALED, THE STORM LEGIONS SHALL RISE AGAIN!” Valgond easily grew tired of hit and run three eyed behemoths. However, curiosity was a good cure when in a sour mood. “Who in Sorchet--” “Someone who should have been dead ages ago...” answered the Toa of Fire. “He is one of the Storm Legion Leaders from time before time, before Matoran existed.1 He possessed powers that could transform any sentient being into a member of his legion, a warrior purely obeying their very will, and thoughts. They dominated not only Sorchet-Kethi, but ruled over all six moons as well. Their reign united the world, yet reduced it to shambles. Eventually, the few rulers like that atrocity were slaughtered by a being unlike any other. When those tyrants died, so did their power over their legions. Many were reduced back to what they once were, others remained transformed. That Storm Leader, whatever his name may be, was somehow not killed like the rest of his kin, but his powers were crippled. As you can see, I remained not a dragon for too long.” Valgond enjoyed history, but that was not of importance. Yet. “Why was he here? What secret does he want from Metrise Bator?” The Toa of Fire grew silent, and reluctantly spoke, “What do you think? Whatever secret that monster wants is the key to unlock his old power. What else would he want for his precious legion to rise once again?” Toa of fire were often annoying and rude, and inefficient at answering questions. “Thank you.” said Valgond. “I now know exactly what that monster’s looking for. Of course he’s searching for the key to his old powers! Now tell me what he is looking for!” The Toa of Fire tried to eliminate emotion from his words, but failed. “He is looking for a weapon of the being who slew his kin. That weapon removed his power, and with that weapon, and the mask that I just smashed, he can regain his powers. That mask he actually stole from Nutasu, the Huna worn by the being who killed his brothers. From that mask he extracted some of his stolen power, enough to temporarily morph me into a dragon. If he finds the other weapon, he shall regain the power to turn anyone into his servant.” Valgond sighed. The Toa clearly did not understand his question. “Thank you. Now tell me what the weapon is! A Rhotuka Launcher? A sword?” The Toa of Fire exploded. “Will you chill? Do you really think I know what this weapon is?” “You seem to know just about everything else about our three eyed abomination.” “I only know that it is a unique weapon, and anyone who saw it would know it’s something powerful. Especially the Storm Leader, who witnessed the weapon drain his power.” Finally satisfied, Valgond wondered what would have to be done. Some ugly Storm Leader wanted to tear his city apart to find some legendary weapon of power. Not in Valgond’s city. Maybe in Nutasu. Not in Metrise Bathor. There was still a nagging doubt. The Fire Toa knew a lot. Too much. “How do you know all of that? How do you know everything about this Storm Leader?” The Toa of Fire laughed. “So, my practice on Sorchet-Val has worked. Who do I look like? Do you think me a Toa of Fire?” Valgond was really hating today more than ever. “An ugly one, sorry. Who are you?” The strange “Toa” laughed. “You know, I am surprised that Lhero-T’lalov did not recognize me. I am not from Nutasu, but the area it once was. I am Talevons, I once had a real name, one that gave me identity. When I was transformed into what I am now, I was given ‘107’ ‘Talevons.’ I became a number.” Averen stood there confused, but Valgond knew. “You are one of the Storm Legion. You were once a slave of one of those things.” The Storm Legionnaire nodded. “It felt good to have a will once more, after a thousand years of decimating Sorchet-Val. The weak gravity was fun, though.” “All right. How are we to stop this maniac?” Talevons smiled, a smile that had not been used for a long time. “We must find the weapon of ultimate power before he does.” CHAPTER 3 “If we are to find this weapon, I suggest we look in the archives of the Sub-Metri. There are plenty of strange artifacts there.” said Averen. Talevons shook his head. “I don’t think so. The reason Lhero-T’lalov wants this city under his power is so he can tear it apart. All four of us only know it to be in some canyon around here. There are many. The weapon of power we seek is most likely buried, or not even here.” Valgond was tired of this. They knew the mission. They knew what they were looking for. There was no time to waste. “You know what?” Valgond’s voice carried authority. “I think we should go to one of the canyons. If our three eyed friend will go there, lets be there first, and destroy him before he can find this precious tool of war of his.” To Valgond’s relief, his two allies agreed. They took the chutes to the Deep Gorge, a canyon that ran through the city. Mostly near the top of the area was crowded with tourists and beings looking for an anti-gravity thrill. However, much deeper down, were tunnels and openings to the cliffside that displayed a black abyss that had no bottom. The trio made their way through one of the paths that spanned the gorge. Valgond never minded the fact that no one ever bothered to put safety railings along the bridge. Valgond could just carry himself back up by using his power over metal on his armor. The bridge was made of rock interlaced with a metal frame. It was strong enough to support a Circovely bearing a heavy burden, as Valgond had once proved. It was smooth and cold. Cold as the gaping abyss below. Talevons’s voice echoed for what seemed like an eternity. “You think it may be here?” Valgond was careful to use as little noise as possible. He just nodded his head. As the crossed to the other side, it occurred to Valgond that some digging was going to probably be involved. Digging this far down was not only prohibited, but could cause an avalanche. Valgond was sure Beltho could arrange an exception for them, but Beltho was not here, and legal pardon would not help against three tons of falling rock. It was hard not to note how still everything was down here. Not only was there no sound, and little light; the air itself was stagnant. It was chilled, and ominous. Or was that just Valgond’s thoughts? A sudden explosion pounded the landscape with a shock wave followed by an excessively loud tumbling of rocks. These shattered the bridge, isolating Talevons, Averen, and Valgond from all civilization, save one ugly, orange-eyed atrocity; whose appearance sent fear through those who saw. Steam poured from Lhero-T’lalov’s eyes. His vision could no longer make his armies, but it was dangerous all the same, as Valgond clearly saw. Valgond thought Talevons’s voice poisoned silence. He now remembered the Storm Leader’s impersonation of the voice of doom. “Your too easy, puny Sorchetian. You have led me to the weapon of Jo-kosan, whose abilities stripped me of my true power. Die.” The power that shot from T’lalov’s eyes came like a shadow descending in the darkness of the night. Talevons barely managed to evade it, leaving a cubic bio of stone shrapnel to fire through the air. If it weren’t for the Toa’s armor, Valgond and Averen would have been pincushions. T’lalov came to the ground, only bios away from the trio. “You are fighting for nothing. Once the power is restored to me, you will become no more than grains of sand. Cease your existence.” With that, orange power ricocheted off of Valgond’s outstretched shield. Valgond somehow lived, but his shield was reduced to vapor. T’lalov snarled. He swung one of his swords, bringing it down on Averen, only to be blocked by one of Talevons’s blades. “Correction, Lhero T’lalov.” he boasted. “You don’t have the power is not restored unto you. Sorry.” He used a power not demonstrated before. He repeatedly swung his blades at nothing, but it lacerated the Storm Leader in such a revolting way, Averen dared to look back. T’lalov roared, one of his arms was completely cut off. The rest of the cuts spilled forth orange light, which burned Valgond’s skin. No, not only burned, but mutated. He was turning in some sort of raptor. He saw that Averen was too. The power continued to bombard them, Valgond was really starting to feel like a raptor too. Strangely enough, Talevons was unaffected. He tore through the orange storm of energy, and kicked the Storm Leader, who was reeling over his wounds. T’lalov plummeted over the edge of the cliff. The torrent of his transforming energies ceased, and Valgond and Averen were Toa again. Regaining his senses, Valgond stumbled toward the edge, and peered over, to see a now five armed figure being claimed by the darkness of the chasm. Valgond knew there was a Toa code, and it included never killing your enemies. Right now, the Toa of Iron didn’t care. He used his iron powers to make the Storm Leader fall faster. “Good riddance,” he muttered. Category:Stories